Chapter 10
Adonis
First, he took off his shirt. Then, without breaking eye contact with Bash, Adonis untied the drawstring of his joggers and slowly slipped them off.
Bash’s eyes traveled slowly down Adonis’s body. Adonis could almost feel the weight of Bash’s gaze on his bare skin, and goosebumps rose on his skin.
“Very good,” Bash said, his voice gravelly. “Now your underwear.”
Adonis pushed his underwear down, freeing his cock. It sprang free, already hard.
“Good boy,” Bash said. He nodded. “You’re doing very well so far.” He jerked his chin at the bed. “Now, get on the bed. Sit against the pillows and face me.”
Adonis obeyed him as Bash went to stand at the foot of the bed.
The hockey player seemed to loom over the bed, with his broad, muscular shoulders and his powerful legs.
One of his hands slipped beneath his underwear, and he stroked his cock.
His tongue slipped between his lips, and he bit his lower lip.
“Fuck, Adonis,” he whispered. “You’re beautiful. ”
Adonis reached for his cock, desperately wanting to stroke it.
“No,” Bash said. “Not yet.” He adjusted his underwear, releasing his own cock. It was thick and hard in his fist, surrounded by a short, dark bush.
Fuck, Adonis thought. I need that inside me now.
“Play with your nipples,” Bash said.
Obediently, Adonis did. He spread his legs and rubbed and pinched his nipples with his fingers. He bit his lip as Bash stroked his own cock, watching Adonis greedily.
“So good,” Bash whispered. “So beautiful.”
Adonis nodded. “Just for you,” he murmured.
“You’ve been good. You can touch your cock now.”
Adonis released a sigh and reached down for his cock.
As he touched himself, he watched Bash. Specifically, he watched Bash watch him.
Adonis had always loved to perform, and Bash was a rapt audience.
There was hunger in his eyes as he watched Adonis on the bed, and Bash’s touch on his own cock was restrained, slow.
“Now lift your legs,” Bash said as he slowly knelt beside the bed. “Hold them back by your head.”
Adonis shifted so that his ass was near the edge of the bed. He hooked his arms around his calves and pulled his legs back. Bash was kneeling before him.
He watched the hockey player inspect his ass and then look up to meet Adonis’s gaze.
“Such a beautiful hole,” he said.
“Use it,” Adonis whispered, almost begging.
Bash’s hands settled on Adonis’s hamstrings. He slowly rubbed up and down Adonis’s legs, bringing his hands close to Adonis’s ass.
Still looking up at Adonis, he pressed a kiss to the inside of his thighs. Adonis whimpered.
“Please,” he said.
Another kiss, closer to his ass. “Please, what?” Bash asked. “What do you want? Be specific.”
“I want you to eat my ass and then fuck me,” Adonis gasped.
“Better,” Bash said. Then, he stuck a finger in his mouth, sucked for a moment, and then touched Adonis’s hole.
Adonis’s breath caught in his chest. “Oh, god,” he whispered, as Bash began to finger him. “Yes, that—” The bed vibrated. Adonis turned his head. “Um. Your phone is ringing.”
Bash paused. “What?”
“You’re getting a phone call.”
Bash added another finger, and Adonis gasped. “It can wait,” Bash said.
“They’re calling again,” Adonis said, barely managing to get the words out without moaning. Bash was knuckle deep inside him.
“Who is it?”
Adonis squinted at the screen. “It says, ‘That Freshman Klootzak.’”
Bash swore. He gently removed his fingers, leaving Adonis feeling empty. “Give it to me.”
Adonis passed him the phone. Bash took it using the hand that hadn’t just been exploring Adonis.
He stood and walked to stand by the window. Adonis had a great view of Bash’s globular ass. He stared at it contentedly while Bash answered the call.
“What,” Bash said flatly. “Is something wrong? You called twice.”
He was silent for a moment. Adonis couldn’t see his face, but the impressive muscles tensed slightly.
“Slow down. Walk me through it. Okay. Okay. Take a deep breath and stop panicking. Where are you?” Bash said. “Okay, well, do you see any street signs? Okay, do not leave that spot. Share your location with me, and I will be there soon. Cort. Do not leave that spot.”
Adonis sat up, his pulse elevated. Something was clearly wrong.
Bash put down the phone. “Die idioot,” he muttered, and Adonis figured that this was not the time to comment that Dutch sometimes sounded like a parody language.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
Bash sighed. “I am sorry, but I have to go.” He put on his boxer briefs, shoving his still semi-hard cock into them. “That was the freshman on our team I am mentoring. Cort Styleton. Have you met him yet?”
Adonis had. The cute, blonde freshman who had the sort of smile that screamed “douchebag.” “Yep. On the first flight. He’s the one who was watching Ben Shapiro on his phone.”
“Good god,” Bash said. “I did not see that. He is drunk, in a bar he doesn't recognize, and he doesn’t know how to get home. He does not want to use his credit card to get an Uber because it is linked to his parents’ account, and he is worried they will ask questions.”
He tugged on joggers and a sweatshirt. “Die idioot,” he muttered again. “He asked me to come get him. He thinks he will be sick. I don’t want to, and I am very sorry, but I am his captain and—”
Adonis was already gathering his clothes. “No, I get. Actually, I’ll go with you.”
——
Once they left the hotel, it took them fifteen minutes to walk to Cort’s location. Bash tracked it on his phone. They walked in silence, only broken by occasional curses from Bash in Dutch. It was a cool night for August, and Adonis wore a sweatshirt Bash had given him.
“I’m sorry about this,” Bash said. They were approaching the location Cort had sent. Bash walked, staring at his phone.
“It’s really okay,” Adonis said, hurrying to keep up with the taller hockey player. “It’s not your fault.”
“You didn’t have to come with me.”
“I know. I wanted to.”
Bash nodded: a silent thank you.
They reached the place where Cort said he was waiting. They were on a street lined with bars and cheap restaurants. Small groups of people gathered on the sidewalks, chatting quietly together as they waited to enter a bar or to be seated for food. Adonis and Bash were just two more in the crowds.
“Do you see him?” Adonis asked.
Bash was silent for a moment, looking from his phone to the crowds, scanning for Cort. “There he is,” he said, nodding across the street.
Cort sat on the curb with his legs pulled up to his chest. He was staring at the pavement, not moving.
Bash shook his head and led Adonis across the street.
“Cort!” he called when they were close.
Cort looked up, his eyes wide and glassy. He was definitely very drunk. “Hi, Bash!” he said loudly. His cheeks were flushed, and his voice was slurred, his tone too cheerful. “I am so sorry about this.”
Bash sat next to the younger boy with a huff. Adonis lingered at a respectful distance, but could still hear them.
“Tell me what happened,” Bash said.
“Dude,” Cort said. He shoved Bash’s arm, and Bash didn’t budge at all. The movement toppled Cort, and Bash steadied him. “I went out with friends to get some drinks.”
“You know that is against the Bellford athletic policy,” Bash said. “Even if you were not
a minor. These friends, are they on the Bellford team?”
“No,” Cort said. “Friends from high school who play for Yale.”
“I see. Where are they?”
Cort shrugged. “They went to the next bar when I threw up in the bathroom.”
Adonis glanced at the entrance to the dive bar behind Cort. A bouncer was watching them coolly.
“You threw up in their bathroom,” Bash repeated. “Did you at least make it to the toilet?”
“Yes,” Cort said with the pride of an elementary student showing their parent a report card with perfect grades. Then he amended sheepishly, “Mostly.”
Bash rubbed his forehead. Adonis hid a smile. Cort seemed like he would not be pleasant to be around even when sober, but Adonis felt himself relating to the younger boy a bit. He had had his share of hard drinking days earlier in college and had thrown up in many bars, bushes, and backseats.
He surprised himself by walking forward and joining Bash and Cort on the curb, sitting on Cort’s other side. “When was the last time you drank water?” he asked.
Cort squinted at him. “Hi. I don’t know you. I’m Cort Styleton. My dad is—”
“Charmed to meet you, Cort. Water?”
“Water would be nice,” Cort said, nodding dreamily.
“I’m going to get an Uber,” Adonis said to Bash, pulling out his phone.
Bash gave a curt nod. “Thank you. I’m going to talk to the bouncer.”
He stood fluidly and went to chat quietly with the bouncer.
“What’s your name?” Cort asked, blinking at Adonis. His eyes were unfocused.
“I’m Adonis. How much did you drink?”
Cort’s eyes narrowed further, and he breathed deeply through his nose. “If you don’t count the shots I had at the hotel, or the beers I had at this bar…Or the hard seltzers in the car on the way here…”
That was all Adonis needed to hear. He finished summoning the Uber. “A car will be here in five minutes to take us back to the hotel. Cort, you’ve been drunk before, right?”
“I love drinking,” Cort said.
Not the best answer an eighteen-year-old could give, Adonis thought. “I understand,” Adonis said. “So, you have been drunk before?”
“I don’t think I’m that drunk now.”
“It’s okay that we disagree on that,” Adonis said. “Do you still think water sounds good?”
Cort gripped his arm. “Yes.”
“Oh, you don’t need to touch me,” Adonis said, gently removing Cort’s hands. “We’ll get you some water back at the hotel.”
“You’re so nice,” Cort said. “Do you want to go back in and get another drink?”
“I really don’t, but that’s so thoughtful of you.”
Cort nodded magnanimously. Yes, the nod said. He was so thoughtful.
Bash returned. “If anyone asks the staff if this idioot was here, they’ll say no.”
“You are so cool,” Cort said in awe.
“How’d you do that?” Adonis asked quietly after they helped Cort stand.
“I paid the bouncer and the bartenders two hundred dollars each,” Bash said absently. “Is that the Uber?”
“Two hundred dollars each?” Adonis gasped. “Yes, that’s the Uber.”
“Yes. They won’t say anything. It helps that Cort used a fake ID, so they don’t know his name. Say, Cort. Could I see that fake ID? I bet it looks very real.”
Cort grinned as they frogmarched him to the Uber. “Sure!” he said. He pulled it out of his wallet when Bash opened the car’s rear door. “Look! Conner Gre—”
“Bendankt,” Bash said, snatching the ID and shoving it in his pocket.
Cort gaped at him. “You—”
And then he threw up on Adonis’s shoes.